User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/A Rewrite of Redwall: Loamhedge/@comment-3135907-20150405042403/@comment-2246928-20150413155122

The fat weasel stumped over to the edge of the woodland glade, stroking his chin as he peered glaringly into the woods, as if challenging Mossflower's very existence. "Hmm... Gerrup proper, yew two. I needs ter discuss sommat."

Skrodd nodded, buckling on his swordbelt and retrieving his spear. "An' what would that be, chief?"

Burrad didn't even glance at the fox as his dark eyes narrowed, his left paw resting warily his cutlass handle. "Th' woodl'nd creatures. Where are they?"

The fox frowned slightly. "That's true... I haven't seen none since we first arrived 'ere 'n' slew those two riverdogs..."

The weasel shivered audibly, speaking to the trees around them. "So where are they?"